Breathe Again
by abbyli
Summary: He never believed he should have been saved. Not after everything that he had done. Now dealing with his new reality, Stiles struggles to learn Werewolf 101 and controlling his new urges as he takes his first real steps as a man and finding out that his heart truly lays with a certain red headed pixie.


**entitled: **Breathe Again

**summary: **He never believed he should have been saved. Not after everything that he had done. Now dealing with his new reality, Stiles struggles to learn Werewolf 101 and controlling his new urges as he takes his first real steps as a man and finding out that his heart truly lays with a certain red headed pixie.

**pairings/characters: **Stiles-centric,Stiles/Lydia (main), Stiles and Scott friendship (main), Derek, Kira, Erica/Boyd, Isaac/Cora

**disclaimer: **I do not own anything.

**notes: **Okay, so I have done some thinking and I made the decision to reboot this fic a bit. I feel that I jumped the gun, wanting to write the first chapter way too quickly and now that I look back at it, it is very rushed and confusing. Now this was written before 3x21 aired so forgive me for the timeline. Picks up with the nogitsune and Lydia in the warehouse and then goes into the AU from there.

**.**

**.**

Damn it, why the hell did she have to wear heels all the time? They really were a bitch to run in.

_Lydia..._

Stop it! Stop saying my name!

Sweat trickles down her temples as she continues to run, drops of it falling into her eyes. She pushes a lock of hair out of her face, her other hand running across the stone wall. Her nails dig in and she feels one crack, warmth forming at the tip telling her that it had started to bleed.

_Lydia, I know you can hear me. They've told you about your other abilities, have they not?  
_

Stop.

_Lydia, they told you that Stiles is dying. And he is. It's too late for Stiles. _

She lets out a small sob as the nogitsune's voice grates in her mind. Those words... Oh god, those damn words.

_There's nothing you can do._

But then, something else fights it's way into her mind.

_Lydia! Lydia, get the hell out of there!  
_

Stiles?

_Lydia, I can hold him off. You need to get out of here now!_

She didn't even know where 'here' was. She just woke up here and then ...

Oh, God.

She doesn't hear the nogitsune anymore but she doesn't stop running. Her feet throb in agony as she moves. The sweat continues to stream into her eyes, blinding her.

_And then..._

Hands that are familiar latch around her bare shoulders, pushing her back against the stone wall. One hand tightens around her throat, pressing it's thumb into her larynx with just enough strength to stop her breathing.

Stolen whiskey eyes peer into hers, almost like he is studying her. Hot breath fans out over her face, sickening her.

The other hand comes to rest on her cheek, almost gentle. The fingertips caress her cheek and chin, one finger touching the very tip of her nose.

"I can see why Stiles likes you so much," the nogitsune says. "You are very beautiful." It cocks it's head for a moment, it's eyes casting a far away look like it is trying to remember something. "Huh, that's funny."

"What?" she can't help but ask. Her breathing has returned, bringing her chest up and down in great heaving gasps.

"It's not just your beauty. He actually likes you for your mind too. He seems to think that you are going to win a Nobel Prize someday."

She remembers that too.

Those words he had said to her on that night that had almost ended her life...those were actually words that she carried with her until this day.

The first time she had actually felt appreciated and cared about.

Of course, she had never told him that.

She had never told him how damn grateful she was. How grateful she was for _him_ and how she didn't take him for granted.

That's why she was here. That's why she didn't listen to her mind that was telling her to stay home and stay safe. That's why she was in this abandoned warehouse in the dead of night, about to lose her life to someone that everyone would think was Stiles Stilinski.

"They'll think that he got jealous," the nogitsune says, reading her mind. "They'll think that he got tired of being rejected and that he finally snapped. One of those 'crimes of passion', they say."

Oh God. Oh, god, he was going to kill her.

The other hand comes up and presses against her throat.

And begins to squeeze.

Stars burst in front of her eyes as she coughs. Her hands press against his chest, her feet thrashing and trying to kick out at those knees.

Darkness begins to fall.

_Let her go! _

And those hands fall away.

She gasps, her own hands coming up to clutch at her throat. Great coughs choke her and she almost vomits.

The whiskey eyes that look at her are real. And terrified.

"Lydia? Oh, God, Lydia..."

She doesn't shy away, allowing those now gentle hands to lower her to the hard, cold concrete floor.

"It's okay," she says. "It's all right."

Stiles doesn't say anything else, giving her one terrified look before turning on his heel and running.

She watches him go.

* * *

Scott doesn't think he has ever run so fast in all of his life. He can hear the panicked heartbeat of John Stilinski behind him and for a brief moment he considers slowing down to help the older man hurry along. Just as the thought laces the air, he hears the sheriff's voice.

"Don't you dare stop!" John shouts. "Go!"

Scott doesn't hesitate, allowing the wolf inside of him to spur him on. As he trains his hearing, focusing on what is going on ahead of him, he hears it -

"_No! No, don't!" _

Stiles.

And then, oh, god, and then -

There is a low, guttural growl that ripples through the air. Lightening flashes above him and Scott slams his eyes shut to protect them. Bringing them open seconds later, he allows them to burn red. He feels his face morph and suddenly he is on all fours, running even faster towards the voice.

_Hold on, Stiles. _

* * *

The Argents beat him there.

Skidding to a stop, Scott brings himself back up to a standing position, his face and mind still wolf-like. He sees Chris Argent standing in front of Stiles (Nogitsune?) with his pistol cocked and raised. Allison is behind him, her bow raised and loaded. She casts an alarmed glance in his direction but still stands at the ready.

"Chris!" he bellows. "Chris, don't you dare!"

Stiles shakes his head. "It's the only way, Scott. Let him shoot me."

"Stiles - are you out of your mind?" Scott snarls.

"Maybe."

And then he smiles.

"You're not Stiles."

The nogitsune claps his hands, a smirk creasing his lips. "Well done, Scott. Well done."

Chris's pistol lowers slightly.

"Fascinating, isn't it?" says the nogitsune. "No matter how hard this little human boy fights, the stronger I get. I've got to give it to him, he does have the skills to be a fox. A true one. But alas, you will not allow me to have the pleasure of turning him, will you?"

"You wouldn't either way," Scott mutters, his voice bordering on a snarl. "You use your host bodies up and discard them like trash. They mean nothing to you except a meat suit."

"Ding ding ding!" the nogitsune cheers. "Right again, oh great Alpha!" He slaps his stolen hands together, those whiskey eyes that do not belong to him glinting with mischief and a great evil that Scott hasn't seen in a long time. "There's something that you are not aware of though. Maybe you should know this before you even consider shooting that electrical bolt at me."

Scott's eyes dart over to Allison and she nearly staggers. Her crossbow is loaded with not a plain old arrow but something else that looks a hell of a lot like a live wire.

Scott holds up a hand and Allison's finger slides away from the trigger.

"Stiles's mother? The one who died from this brain atrophy that you all think Stiles has got too?"

Oh god...ohgodohgodohgod.

"She was an emissary. A very beautiful and amazing emissary. My emissary."

"Kitsunes can have emissaries?" asks a suddenly appeared John Stilinski.

The nogitsune nods, his stolen eyes brimming with a suppressed mirth. "You see, we don't travel in packs but the stronger we get, the older we get, we acquire advisors. People who can perform bits of magic to help us along. And Claudia Stilinski was one of the best. But sadly, one day, she got tired of me. Well, I couldn't let her go while knowing all my innermost secrets. So -"

"You son of a bitch!" John bursts out, lunging forward, only to be caught by Scott's hands pushing him back. "You killed my Claudia!"

"I didn't kill your Claudia," the nogitsune says. "I just - windexed her brain. It got a little away from me though."

The nogitsune suddenly gags, a noisy disgusting sound that contorts his stolen face.

_I'll have my body back now, thank you very much. _

A snarl leaves the nogitsune's lips and then his head whips back. A horrible cry of anger ripples through the air and he falls down on all fours, breathing heavily. When he looks up, those whiskey eyes are very real and very _Stiles. _

"Scotty, I've got him. But not for long. He is going to take over again!" Stiles yells. Blood is starting to trickle out of his nose. "You need to kill me!"

Scott shakes his head, feeling his eyes burn a brilliant scarlet once again. "No!"

"Kill me! It's the only way!"

Chris cocks his pistol once again, pointing it directly at Stiles' head. Scott whips in front of him, sending the gun flying with one punch. Allison cries out, catching her father as he falls.

"No!" Scott yells again. "No, there has got to be another way." He stands over Stiles now, helping him rise shakily to his feet. When he looks into his friend's eyes, he sees something that makes him want to cry.

He sees defeat.

Even after everything that they had gone through together, absolutely everything, Stiles never gave up. He always kept going, his head held high, ready to take on the world by storm with only his baseball bat and quick wit as weapons. The boy who ran with wolves, who couldn't be protected by those wolves.

His best friend.

Scott finds himself gazing at Stiles, trying to memorize every aspect of his exhausted face.

Memories shoot through his brain, memories of a chilly night two years ago when he went through his first transformation - Stiles was there waiting for him.

To make him laugh after it was over, he had bought a dog food bowl and scratched his name on the side.

A young man who was always there when he needed him.

"I'm not losing you," Scott whispers softly, more to himself than to Stiles.

Stiles then yells out, the nogitsune's frustration leaking through. He goes down on all fours, his head twisting back in an animal way.

"Do it."

For a second, Scott isn't sure he heard right.

"What?"

Stiles nods his head, staggering to his feet once again. His hands claw at Scott's front, whiskey eyes finding dark brown.

"The bastard killed my mother," Stiles whispers.

Another shout leaves Stiles' mouth that is not his own.

Scott glances at John Stilinski. The older man inclines his head ever so slightly, granting his permission.

The younger man takes a hold of Stiles' wrist, turning it upward. Their eyes meet one last time.

No words are spoken. No words need to be spoken.

Scott sinks his teeth into Stiles' wrist.

The nogitsune's anger is immediate. Even as Scott's venom begins to seep through Stiles' veins, the fox continues to fight to hold on.

Stiles falls.

Allison screams.

Scott slips to his knees, gently shifting his best friend over onto his back. A little bit of blood trickles out of the corner of Stiles' mouth, his eyes heavy and half-lidded.

And then - it happens.

A silvery mist begins to drift upward, first coming out of the open bite wound on Stiles' wrist. And then out of his torso ... his chest ... his mouth ...

The nogitsune leaving his body.

A great heaving gasp leaves Stiles' chest and his eyes fly open. They are their normal whiskey brown and most definitely his own.

Scott glances down to his wrist that he is still holding in his right hand. The blood has already receded and the wound is slowly knitting itself together.

"Oh god..." Stiles whispers, seeing all the eyes on him. "I fainted, didn't I?"

Scott chuckles softly. "Something like that."

He then tries to sit up too quickly and winces, one trembling hand reaching for his forehead. His eyes see the slowly healing bite and then look back up at Scott.

"How long?" he mutters.

"When the moon hits it's highest point," Scott answers. "Then we'll know."

Stiles nods his head, taking in another deep breath. His other hand reaches out for his father, who takes it.

"Lydia!" Stiles suddenly bursts out. "She's back in the warehouse! Oh, god!"

Allison holds out a hand to silence him, nodding at her father.

"Relax, Stiles. We'll go get her," she says with an air of authority. Within the blink of an eye, the two Argents are gone.

The older Stilinski and Scott help Stiles get to his feet.

"Come on, Stiles. It's time for you to go home."

* * *

Two hours had passed and there had been still no word from the Argents or Lydia.

Scott and the sheriff had brought Stiles right home and he was now sacked out in his room, already looking like he felt better and a bit stronger. That was a good sign. For Scott, his first turn had been that night since the full moon was rising but with others, it would be a bit longer.

One of the first things that Scott had done after getting Stiles settled was call his mother. After Melissa got done yelling at him for how worried he had made her, she hung up, promising to be there as soon as she could.

Right now, all they could do was wait.

Scott called Allison one last time and even called Isaac a handful of times. The younger wolf had disappeared not long after being released from the hospital the day before and he hadn't heard from him since. Once this was over, once Stiles was out of the woods, he would search for his other friend. He knew Isaac understood the bond between him and Stiles and - well -

A knock came at the door around midnight.

Scott leapt off the couch, gently skirting around the sleeping sheriff in the opposing armchair and pulled the door open as quietly as he could. He couldn't really mask his disappointment at finding his mother and Kira standing there.

He accepted his mother's hard embrace, pressing a kiss to her cheek before turning to Kira. He half listened to his mother as she approaching the sleeping sheriff and lightly nudged him awake.

"What are you doing here?" he gently asked the young kitsune in front of him.

Kira nods softly before reaching up and wrapping her arms around him in a light hug. He takes the embrace half heartedly, his heart beginning to thud away.

"I just had a feeling," Kira says.

Scott nods, pulling the door open wider to let her in.

* * *

"Is Stiles the first?" Kira asks.

They are in the small Stilinski kitchen now. A pot of hot coffee is bubbling away on the stove, Kira is at the counter preparing a mountain of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Melissa is still tending to an absolutely exhausted Sheriff Stilinski and Scott had just returned to the kitchen from checking on Stiles.

Scott nods, falling into a chair at the table with a sigh of fatigue. He barely glances at the sandwich that Kira places in front of him, allowing his head to sink into his hands.

"I just hope it took," Scott says.

Kira glances at him over her shoulder, her long ponytail gliding down her back like a raven wing. She pads across the linoleum floor to sit in the other chair, leaning forward slightly on her elbows.

"Will it?" she asks. "If what the fox said was true - can someone be a druid and a wolf?"

"He's not a druid, Kira," Scott suddenly snaps, his voice a little harder than he intends. "He's just Stiles."

"But if -?"

"Don't, Kira," Scott says quickly. "Just don't."

And the young kitsune falls silent.

They stay like that for what seems like hours. Scott continues to pick at the sandwich in front of him, having massacred it into tiny little bits before he finally gets up the nerve to say what he needs to say.

"I'm sorry."

"It's all right," Kira says at once. "I get it."

"But do you?" Scott asks softly. "Do you really?"

The younger girl has no answer for that.

The words come out of his mouth faster than he can control them. He speaks of his dislike of being a werewolf even though he had learned to accept it. He tells her of the night that he got bitten. Of Stiles being there for him every second.

"He was there every time that I needed him," Scott whispers. "And he needed me and the only way I could save him was by biting him. I swore I would never do this to anyone. Never. This is not the kind of life that they want. Stiles didn't want it."

"But Stiles doesn't want to die," Kira gently reminds him. "This is not your fault. You did what you had to do."

"By turning him?" Scott asks, dismayed at the sudden heat behind his eyes.

Kira opens her mouth for a rebuttal but stops before the words reach her lips. Her eyes glance towards the kitchen window and Scott follows with his own eyes.

The moon had reached it's highest point in the sky.

He's on his feet in a second, commanding Kira and an alarmed Sheriff Stilinski to stay where they are, before bounding up the stairs to Stiles' room. As he jogs down the long hallway, he can already hear the harder at work heart of his friend.

"Stiles -"

Stiles is awake, sitting on his bed with his knees brought up to his chin. His hair sticks up all over his head and his golden eyes glow with a magnificence that Scott had never deemed possible.

Wait a minute - his _golden _eyes?

Scott looks again and sees that he is not imagining things.

During the last hours, his mind had kept skating to the possibility that if the bite took, Stiles' eyes were going to be blue. There had been a death on his hands but - Scott still wasn't sure how that worked, whether the eye color had an effect before a person actually turned.

Now he had his answer. And he couldn't help but be relieved.

"Hey," he says softly.

Stiles glances at him with a bit of surprise like he hadn't even realized Scott was there.

"It hurts," he whispers.

Scott doesn't need an explanation to know exactly what he means.

"That will go away in time," he whispers, taking a few cautious steps towards his friend.

Stiles winces, holding a hand to his jaw. As the moon shifts in the sky, it's glorious and dreadful light pools through the window and onto the bedroom floor.

Scott feels his own eyes burn red.

Stiles shifts on the bed, so he is now on his hands and knees. A low rumble works it's way up his stomach, leaving his mouth in more of a howl and a little bit of blood dribbles down his chin. His fangs break through his gums for the first time.

"Argh, damn it," he mutters, wrapping his fingers around his chin which is suddenly turned into another groan of pain. Five silver claws replace his fingernails.

"You're doing it, Stiles," Scott gently urges him. "You're doing it."

Stiles groans again as ten more claws slide from his toes, shining in the moonlight. His nose elongates, his nostrils widening. Hair begins to sprout from his cheeks, the same color as the honey brown on his head. His ears shift and begin to lengthen into a point.

And then, Stiles the wolf is sitting on all fours, breathing heavily, his eyes blazing and a howl leaving his lips.

"Find your anchor, Stiles," Scott says, crouching down in front of his best friend. His own eyes are still red and fiery hot. He will use his alpha status if he has too but he doesn't think he will. Stiles is strong enough.

Stiles continues to pant, his eyes still as golden as the scarlet sun.

"Remember who you are. The fox didn't change any of that. You are still Stiles Stilinski. You are still the good spirited, klutzy, best friend. Hold onto that."

He can tell Stiles is listening intently to every word he says.

"You are you."

And then -

Oh, God -

And _then ..._

His claws slip back into his hands and feet, smooth oval nails replacing them. His ears return to their normal size and the extra hair recedes into soft skin. The nose shrinks and settles back into it's normal place.

The fangs recede, to be replaced by blunt teeth.

His glowing eyes slowly fade back to their gentle whiskey brown.

And Stiles the human sits in the center of the floor, breathing heavily.

"You did it," Scott chokes, alarmed at the sudden heat behind his eyes. "You did it, brother."

"Yeah," Stiles manages to say as he attempts to rise to his feet. Scott supports him with one arm. "Yeah, I did." He gives a small laugh. "Holy crap, I did it."

Scott forces out the tiniest of smiles.

"You're going to be fine," he says, even though there is something deep in his heart that tells him that this isn't going to be all hunky dory right away.

* * *

The call comes around four in the morning.

Scott dozes in one of the high backed chairs in the Stilinski living room, his head laid back and his mouth slightly open. The sheriff and Melissa are suspiciously cuddled together on the sofa and a cat like Kira is curled in a ball on the floor by Scott's feet, a light blanket tucked around her tiny form. She had shouted down Scott's insisting that she take the only chair.

And suddenly, Scott is being shaken awake by a hand that used to be quite gentle and is now a bit rougher.

"Ouch! Stiles, what the hell -?"

Scott looks up through bleary eyes to see his best friend staring down at him, his own eyes wide and filled with a grief that is so horrible. He holds his cell phone in his hand and pressed it at Scott.

"It's Lydia," Stiles whispers.

Scott leaps to his feet with the grace of a gazelle, dancing lightly around Kira and their parents to head for the kitchen. Once he is there, a shaky Stiles standing in the doorway, he holds the phone to his ear.

"Lydia, are you okay? Where have you guys been? I've been trying to call you for hours!" he practically yells, soundly suspiciously like his mother whenever he stayed out past curfew.

All he gets for an answer is the smallest of sobs in his ear.

"Lydia?"

"_Scott?" _Lydia finally whispers. "_Are you there?"  
_

Stiles shifts on his feet, his eyes widening just a bit. His new hearing was just now kicking in and he heard every word.

Scott's voice drops a few octaves. "Lyddy, I'm right here. Are you all right?"

"_I'm fine," _Lydia whispers. _"But - Allison isn't."  
_

Oh god. Ohgodohgodohgod.

"Lydia, where's Allison?"

Another sob.

"_He was waiting for her,_" Lydia whimpers. "_I didn't know. I didn't feel it until it was too late. He had his guards and - well, he had one attack Isaac."  
_

Isaac. Isaac must have finally showed up.

"_And Allison saved him but - oh, god!"  
_

"Lydia, take a deep breath," Scott commands softly, already knowing the next words that were about to come out her mouth. He doesn't want to hear them. Oh, god, he doesn't want to hear them.

"_One of his guards stabbed Allison." _

There is a quick intake of breath from the kitchen doorway.

"_Allison's dead."_

* * *

**.**

**.**

**.**

**So this had been begun before the end of season 3 and I have been fighting with it for a while. I am much more pleased with this chapter instead of the one I had originally written. **

**I know. I know. I killed Allison. But Allison's death will be playing a part in Stiles maturing and growing. **

**We shall be going into Stiles' POV in the next chapter. And no, he isn't going to become a badass werewolf in a day. He's got a long way to go. He is still Stiles, still the snarky goofball who uses his brain before his fists. Well, now **_**claws. **_**And no worries. Malia will be mentioned in this fic but she WILL not appear. All Stydia/Sciles. **

**Reviews are greatly appreciated. Feedback does help. Thanks guys. Have a great and safe weekend. **


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